Conversations with the Garifuna Buyei Yaya about where do
Garifuna Songs Come From?
By Wendy Griffin January 2015
The Garifunas are amazing for the sheer quantity of music
written in the Garifuna language. A dugu ceremony lasts two nights and three
days and most of that time is spent singing and dancing day and night. A
Garifuna wake or end of mourning ceremony (fin de novenario, similar to the Southern
African custom of “final prayers”) lasts from just after dark until dawn and
much of that time is spent sing and dancing to punta and parranda songs.
The all night celebrations known as fedu (Celebration) when
Garifuna women’s clubs sing hunguhungu songs generally start at 10 pm and end
at 6 am. All of these songs are
memorized, as most do not yet have a written form. It is almost impossible to put
the polyrhythmic Garifuna music in scores as there is not a set way to play any
songs—it is done extemporeneously by the drummers and the other musicians,
sometimes in direct response to the way one of the dancers is dancing. There
are at least 30 different genres of traditional Garifuna music, with a genre
like punta/banguity being determined by the rhythm, the dance that goes with it,
and the situation in which it is danced.
Some Garifuna composers like the now deceased Victor
Bermudez of Cusuna, the breakman on the Truxillo Railroad, are known to have composed over 200 songs in
Garifuna. It turns out that where do Garifuna songs come from is an interesting
topic. One of the people I discussed it with Yaya, my buyei friend who during
her life composed 5 songs. She mostly composed in the Punta and female Parranda
genres. Traditional Punta music is a
song sung by women, while for comercial Garifuna Punta Rock music, most of the
recorded and thus more famous singers have been Garifuna men.
The first song Yaya composed was on the occassion of the
opening of the highway between Trujillo and the Garifuna communities of Santa
Fe, San Antonio and on to Guadelupe, west of Trujillo. Until this road was
opened, Garifunas would walk along the beach to these communities, sometimes
walking the 15 km to Guadelupe and back in a single day like Garifuna teacher
Justa Silveria Gotay who “commuted” every day for years in this way to her job
in Guadelupe from her home in Barrio Cristales, Trujillo.
While in the United States we tend to take roads for
granted, the fight for getting the road opened between Guadelupe and Trujillo was
so important to the Garifunas that it is a central theme in the half Garifuna
half Spanish play Louvagabu (The Other Side Far Away), performed by the Garifuna
Theatre group “Superacion Guadelupe” (Guadelupe Getting Ahead) in which
corruption, and issues related to money being sent home by postman on foot to
grandmothers who could not read prove some interesting comic relief.
Yaya saw all the fancy cars that Honduran government
officials drove to the inauguration event and she was amazed at all the number
of cars, and in the song she composed she wonders if they could all be for her.
Dr. Joseph Palacios, a Garifuna
anthropologist at the University of West Indies, Belize, writes in an article
in “Black Carib-Garifuna” that if we collected all of the Garifuna songs we
could probably document the whole history of the Garifunas.
I would not be surprised. Hurricane Fifi over 30 years ago
is still remembered in song. I do not know if the Garifuna song collected by
the National Garifuna Folkloric Ballet “La Balsa” (The Raft) refers to the
Garifunas travelling by raft between the island of Roatan and the Honduran mainland which happened in 1797 when they
first arrived in Trujillo, or if it is even older and refers to escaping in the
night from Barbados on a raft to reach the Island of Saint Vincent and to
refuge among the Black Carib Indians of St.Vincent, the ancestors of the modern
Garifuna.
The Garifuna Gunchei songs like “Generali” (The General) Armando Crisanto Melendez, the Garifuna
Director of the National Garifuna Folklorica Ballet originally from San Juan,
Tela, Honduras, told me refer to a
victory of the Garifunas while on the island of St. Vincent against the French,
whom they successfully defended the Island against. This was prior to losing
the Second Carib War to the English in 1796 and the death of Chief Satuye,
which led to their exile to Honduras in 1797.
Another song Yaya composed was when she was called “bruja” a
witch. She was called a “bruja” because
she is a female shaman called “buyei” in Garifuna, but in the Garifuna culture
witches and buyeis serve different functions. So she composed the Garifuna song
that even though people call me “bruja” I am walking to my fields to grow yams
and “chatas” (Saban bananas, called charter bananas in Bay Islands English) for
my grandchildren.
One of the reasons people report that they do not want to be
called as buyeis is that other people will point to them (señalar) and talk
about them. Yaya still said after 50 years of being a buyei, “I do not like
this work. I never wanted to be a buyei. But the spirits said they would take
me if I did not accept, so I accepted.” This is not unusual among shaman worldwide
that they do not seek to become shaman, but rather they are called, and they
have to accept. Other Garifuna women buyeis I have talked to also said they
accepted after becoming sick, because they were told if they did not accept the
spirits would take them and they would die.
Another song Yaya wrote was about when some Ladinos from
Olancho a number of hours away by bus and days travel by foot or mule came to
visit her and ask for medicine. She was amazed that people had come from so far
to ask her for medicine and in the song “Olanchuna” wonders how could people
from so far away as Olancho know that she made medicine.
A few years ago she rewrote the song and now it says people
came from Olancho asking for medicine, there is a gringa who tells people I
know how to make medicine. That is the song she wrote about our work together
after the book she helped me with “Los Garifunas de Honduras” and the Honduras
This Week newspaper articles “Conversations with a Garifuna Shaman: Doña Clara”
had already been published. She could
not read in any language, but she had copies of the articles and the book, knew
what they said, and had seen her picture in them. Apparantly these moved her to
write a song about working with me.
Yaya also noted the trend of the high level of AIDS being reported in the Garífuna communities. It was so high that she thought it unbelievable. So she wrote a song about that when you ask what illness someone had, there were no more headaches, no more fevers, people only say That person has AIDS (SIDA in Spanish).
The last song she composed around age 91 caused a small
family problem. Her son Polo’s (short
for Hipolito) daughter had had a new baby boy.
She wrote a song in honor of this greatgrandson, saying that he would be
a Garifuna of “hacha and azadón” (axe and hoe).
This is a standard Garifuna expression to describe the old time
Garifunas where Garifuna men cut down the forest for the women to have
somewhere to grow, and the hoe was used to control weeds. Archaeological remains from the island of St.
Vincent in the Yale Peabody Museum collection confirm that the Caribs and
Arawak ancestors of the Garifunas were indeed people of “hacha y azadón” with Stone
axes and Seashell or Stone hoes.
The Garifuna men could use the axes to fell large trees to
make the dug out canoes to travel between the islands, and between the Islands
and the mainland. The travel pattern of men being away for six months planting
and hunting recorded in Yaya’s story “La Comadrona” (The Midwife) may reflect
that the men of St. Vincent which only had a little bit of land and almost no
wild animals, spent significant time of the mainland of South America where
they farmed and hunted to make up for the fact that St. Vincent was so small
and had limited natural resources. This
story like many Garifuna stories, has a sung chorus that is repeated several
times during the story. In West Africa, there are stories with choruses and
stories without choruses. Garifuna women know traditional stories, called Uragá,
but they never are chosen to tell them at wakes, which is when Garifuna men
called “uraguistas” tell traditional stories. Yaya would sometimes enjoy
sitting at home with her youngest grandaughter who was about 7 and tell her and
Yaya’s daughter telling traditional Garifuna stories.
Yaya sang the song she composed on the occassion of her new
greatgrandson for me with her son Polo present.
Instead of being happy that his mother had composed a song for his new
grandson, he was angry. “This grandson will not grow up to be a Garifuna of “hacha
y azadón”, he will grow up to be a Garifuna of “saco y corbata” (suit and tie)”,
Polo said. After that she never composed
another song and I gave up the Project of trying to tape record Garifuna music,
which I had done thinking her children would like to have a recording of the
songs their mother wrote. She is still alive, now about 95, but she no longer
sings and she is bedridden and dying. The recording would not have meant that
much to her grandchildren, none of whom speak Garifuna except the youngest Domini
who has learned some Garifuna in bilingual education classes in the Socorro
Sorrel School in Barrio Cristales,Trujillo.
I asked Yaya how she learned the songs for the dugu and
chugu ceremonies. She said the ancestors tell her what songs they want to be
sung. Sometimes they would give her
whole new songs to be sung. Abeimajani
(the songs of older women) and Arumajani (the songs of older men), both
sung without drums, are thought to be particularly helpful medicinally.
Singing these songs are a major part of curing people of Sting
Ray (raya) stings. I have heard even of White people, like American Kim
Brinkley’s daughter who grew up in Trujillo as her grandmother owned the Villa
Brinkely Hotel, being cured of Sting ray stings by singing abeimajani to them
on them on the beach, so apparantly they work even if you don’t believe. Both a
certain number of Abeimajani and Arumajani songs are sung at a dugu or a chugu.
One of the older male drummers in Trujillo, known as Calderón, who appears on
the cover of Los Garifunas de Honduras drumming, told me he had written an
Arumajani song in Garifuna about a fishing trip he had been on, and sang it for
me.
When Garifuna men fished, they often took a son or a
grandson with them. One of the few Garifuna men in Trujillo who knew arumajani
songs was known by the nickname “Subalterno” (subaltern). While fishing his
grandfather would lead the arumajani song, and Subalterno would be expected to
sing the chorus part. His grandfather also taught him Uraga or traditional
stories as they fished. To the extent that Garifuna young men do not fish, they
do not have the time to learn and practice these songs and stories, the same
with Young women who no longer go to farm with their mothers or grandmothers. Older
Garifuna men as they worked on crafts on the beach, also used to sing and
compose songs, and sing them to their Friends who came looking for a breeze on
the beach. They would also discuss community business and family problems. In
the US we go to therapists, pay city council people and social workers, and
composers to do these tasks. The Garifuna men in the past were not, as Ladinos
seemed to perceive, just idling away on the beach while their wives worked.
Since Garifuna men traditionally fished from 2 am to 10 am, to be able to bring
the fish in time for lunch, they had their afternoons free, and they usually
did not fish every day which left them with the time to make the majority of
Garifuna crafts.
If songs are taught by the ancestors, usually they are
revealed in dreams. Not only buyeis receive songs in dreams. For example,
Profesor Santos Angel Batíz had a personal Project to collect Máscaro or
Wanaragua songs. He had collected about 100 songs. In his dreams, an ancestor
appeared and dictated to him another Wanaragua (Dance of the Warriors) song. He
told the ancestor in the dream, “I do not have the money to publish this song.” Usually Garifuna songs are not published, but
rather you get a group of your friends together or go to the dance club and
sing the song, and see if they like it well enough to “estrenar”, present for
the first time, at a celebration such as at Christmas or New Years. Yaya said
some of her songs were popular in Santa Fe. Some of her family lived in San
Antonio, and she was also in demand to do Garifuna ceremonies in nearby Santa
Fe, San Antonio, and Guadelupe.
Yaya was not one of the buyeis who would lead the singing at
a dugu or chugu. She was always playing the marracas, which are the musical
instrument thought to really pull (jalar) the ancestor spirits into the dugu or
chugu ceremony. Yaya learned to play the maracas in the correct way for
Garifuna ancestor ceremonies, because a deceased family member who had been a
buyei appeared to her in dreams and taught her how to play maracas. Younger
buyeis also generally do not study medicinal plants with older buyeis because
they believe the ancestor spirits will reveal to them the plants they will
need.
Most of the younger buyeis in Trujillo currently do not
speak enough Garifuna to offer a plate of food at a chugu. The future of the
Garifuna religióus ceremonies with its three nights and two days of singing in
the Garifuna language looks grim. But I have seen the ancestors possess younger
Garifunas who do not speak Garifuna and have them give messages in Garifuna
when they both did not know anything about the situation they were giving a
message about and they did not speak Garifuna well. The older ancestors who
used to work for the Banana companies like Truxillo Railroad and will sometimes
possess younger Garifunas who do not speak English and have them give messages
in English. The male ancestors will also possess female Garifunas and have them
give messages in the male form of Garifuna. So don’t count the ancestors out
yet.
In Trujillo, the male buyei Enrique (Esly) García, head of
the Club Wabaragoun, usually led the singing of sacred songs at a ceremony like
a dugu or chugu. Elsy had spent two
months at the house of another buyei to betaught the songs by the other male buyei
the recently deceased Santos, according to Santos’s father Beto Reyes. So dugu
songs can both be taught by others or revealed by ancestors.
They can also just be composed by individuals like other
Garifuna songs. Profesor Santos Angel Batiz told me of participating in
meetings with older Garifunas in Sangrelaya who used to compose dugu songs,
treat with medicinal plants, and meet to discuss Garifuna matters like should a
new word be allowed in the Garifuna
language before a particularly agressive Catholic priest came to Sangrelaya in
the mid-twentieth century and threatened to not permit burials of people and
other church related punishments to those who met and did such things. There
are a lot of words in dugu songs that even fluent younger speakers of Garifuna
do not understand. There is a good possibility some of them will be African
loan words. Finding this out, however, will not be easy as most Garifunas do
not like to translate neither songs nor uruga.
During her lifetime Yaya had been part of Garifuna women’s dance
clubs. She was also in demand at as a singer of punta at Wakes. The first time
I met her, before we became friends, she was singing with a trio of Garifuna
women at what I later learned was the wake of her half brother Francisco Avila, who had been the owner of a
restaurant in Barrio Cristales, Trujillo Arca de Allianza which was near my
house in Barrio Cristales and the wake was held in the street in front of the
restaurant which was part of his house. When I would hear Punta drums at night,
I would go out, concerned who of my neighbors had died.
I was also at the time helping David Flores with an
investigation of Garifuna dances for his book “La Evolucion Historica de la
Danza Folklorica Hondureña”. I went to so many Garifuna ceremonies and dances
my first year in Trujillo, when I missed a chugu, a few days later, the drummer
who was the head of the Garifuna music group in Trujillo “Los Menudos” Francisco “Pancho” David stopped me on the street.
“Are you OK?,” he asked. “There was a chugu yesterday and you weren’t there, so
we thought you must be sick.”
Family members or friends composing songs when someone has
died is common. My friend Angelica (Jeca) Gutierrez, my friend Kike Gutierrez’s
mother, was not a person to spend time in Garifuna ceremonies like dugus,
chugus, and wakes, even though she spoke Garifuna. Perhaps it was because she
was very Catholic, having been the housekeeper of the foreign Catholic priests
inTrujillo for 12 years, although I have been to both a chugu for her sister
before she died and a bath of the soul at her house for her sister after she
died. But when her son Kike died, who
had been her main support, she was moved to compose a Garifuna song where she
is telling Kike’s sister Lucia (Lucy) in New York that Kike had died, and she
sang the song for me, which was very lovely. This is
the origin of most punta songs. One of the members of a dance club in Trujillo
also composed a song when Kike was injured and was left in a wheelchair for the
next 20 years. She and the dance club
would come and sing it to him.
According to the interview with Paul Nabor, the 80 year old male
parranda Singer, guitarist, and buyei, in the video “Aventura Garifuna” by a
Spanish TV station, which was on the Internet, he also wrote his most famous
song “Nuguyenei” (My Older Sister) at her request when she was dying, to be
sung at her wake and as they carried her coffin to the grave yard. I have been
told that song is now like the town anthem of the Belizean Garifuna town of
Punta Gorda. He also said he wrote songs when people did
something that made him angry, and then he would sing it at the next wake. Most
people notice that Garifunas are generally pretty peaceful, unlike Ladinos who
are stereotyped as being violent and getting into machete fights before, and shoot
with guns now. Garifunas have songs that make fun of people and whole dances
particularly the masked dances at
Christmastime which are ways to make fun of people to relieve tensión, so that
you do not feel that you have to go out and kill them. Ridicule them instead. In West Africa, whole festivals of dances of
making fun of people (burlar) are known to have existed.
Separation comes not only from death, but also through
immigration. Issues related to immigration of Garifunas to the US permeate
almost all genres of Garifuna music. There are punta songs such a younger
sister telling her older brother (Nitu) not
to immigrate, and leave her alone. There is a man’s song, I think Arumajani about
how there is no work here. I am thinking of going to the US. They say there is work there. Several of
Honduran Garifuna Aurelio Martinez’s songs deal with Immigration. On his Lita
Ariran (Black Rooster) CD he sings a song called “La Carta” (The Letter) about
receiving a letter where his mother, his brother, his uncle, everyone says they
are coming from the States to visit and he has to prepare them something. In
the video “La Aventura Garifuna” he tells the story of how he composed the song
“Yalifu” (The Pelican) when he was 14 years old and living alone in La Ceiba to
go to high school, and he was at the beach. The song says he wishes he could
change into a pelican and fly to where his father was. His Garifuna father left
their traditional Garifuna village of Plaplaya when he was 3 years old and he
did not see him again until he was over 20 years and playing a concert in New
York City.
This is a chapter from the book Yaya: La Vida de una
Curandera Garifuna (Yaya: The Life of a Garifuna Healer) which is co-authored
by Wendy Griffin and Tomasa Clara Garcia Chimilio, affectionately known as
Yaya. Other parts of this book in progress are in the versión listed on WorldCat.